Big Brother
by BelovedMaeve
Summary: The curse is broken and Emma learns she has a family, including a seven-year-old "big brother". A series of one-shots chronicling their relationship as well as the rest of the Charming Family.
1. Chapter 1: Introductions

Okay. So, as I was working on my current story (and another one that I haven't published yet), this idea came to my mind. I noticed there were several stories about Emma having a younger sibling or even a twin (I think), but I thought it would be interesting if Emma had a brother that had been caught in the curse. The line from Flight of the Navigator kept running through my mind. "You're my big, little brother!" I researched the OUAT timeline, and I think it's conceivable that Snow and David could have had another child before Emma. In fact, since they are supposed to be Emma's age, it's surprising they didn't. Especially considering how…ahem affectionate they are with one another (and the fact that Regina doesn't seem the type to teach her step-daughter about birth control). I am attempting to keep the characters as "canon" as possible, however, the plot (such as it is) will follow a different path then the one on the show.

This story will strictly be a series of one-shots, that's how they're appearing in my head. They may follow a chronological order, but if I have new ideas later, they most likely will not.

If you'd like to discuss time-lines and possibilities, go ahead and message me. OUAT timelines give me a headache because I'm one of those people who prefer precision.

Big Brother

Chapter 1: Introductions

Emma could see Mary Margaret and David. They were barely twenty feet away, but she couldn't make her feet move forward.

"Go see them," Henry said, hopping by her side with barely contained excitement. "They wanna see you! They've been waiting twenty-eight years and…"

Emma took a shaky breath and tried not to snap at her kid. How could she be irritated with him when he died…almost died…whatever…ten minutes ago? "Just give me a minute, kid," she said, trying to force herself to keep breathing. She watched as Snow broke away from Leroy and a group of other men that included Mr. Clark, from the pharmacy. Her voice carried slightly in the wind "Now…now I find my daughter," she said, then spoke to low for Emma to hear. It was time.

"So it's true," Emma said, unable to move from her spot.

Snow turned and looked into the eyes of her daughter. Beside her, David also met the eyes of his child. Snow walked slowly toward the Emma, inwardly trembling. David trailed her only a step behind. She reached out and cupped Emma's face in her hands. Emma looked down, unable to maintain their gaze. Snow's face crumpled as she drew Emma to her. "You found us," she said. Emma let herself be drawn into the hug and she felt David's hand cup the back of her head. Emma quivered, but let herself relax minutely into the hug.

They were interrupted by a small voice, "Grandpa?" Henry asked.

Snow chuckled, and Emma watched as a smile broke across David's face. "Yeah kid, I suppose so," he said. He drew Henry into a tight hug by his side.

After talking, the group headed off to confront Rumpelstiltskin, only to be stopped by Archie Hopper who came running up to tell them there was a lynch mob after the Queen.

The family quickly fell in step as Snow and David looked anxiously around. "Where do you think he is?" Snow murmured to David.

"I don't know Snow, but he's here somewhere. He has to be." David said firmly.

"Who are you talking about?" Emma asked.

Snow hesitated, looked at her. "Your brother Ashton," she said softly.

"Brother!" said Henry with real surprise. "That's not in the book. Why isn't he in the book?"

"I don't know Henry," Snow said. "We always kept Ashton very…" She trailed off as she saw the crowd at the mayor's house.

"Here we go," said David. Snow took a breath, and Emma headed towards Regina.

Within minutes the crowd had been dispersed and Regina had been locked into a jail cell. They left her with Sneezy and Happy. Then the rest of the group headed for the town square.

On the way there Snow and David told both Emma and Henry about Ashton. He had been born before they had captured the kingdom. He was with them on the campaign against Regina and King George but he had always been kept safe, away from the fighting. Once they got the kingdom back, Snow and David had felt safe enough to let him be a part of the castle life. But he was only known as their son to a select few. Most of the kingdom thought he was Johanna's grandson, if they wondered about him at all. He was carefully guarded and watched. Before the curse had hit, they had sent him with Johanna to a small cabin deep in the woods. Neither Snow, nor David could say why he wasn't mentioned in the book. They didn't know how the book knew anything, anyway.

"Johanna will know how to find us," said Snow, "but I don't know if Ashton will be with her."

The entire town was filled with confused and overwrought people. Some seemed elated and others completely despondent. When they saw David and Snow they began clamoring for them. Vainly, Snow and David tried to fight their way through the crowd to continue their search. They held a brief conversation with Red, Granny, Grumpy, and the other dwarves. Dopey was sent to gather the nuns..

Snow knew that the best way to find Ashton would be to get everyone calm and working together. "Listen everyone," said Snow. "It's important that we make this our central point. We need to make reuniting families and friends a priority, especially those with young children. If you are missing your child or children, I want you to go see Granny. If you are missing an adult friend or family member, speak to Mother Superior. The rest of you, if you have information about a person, especially a child, I want you to speak to Leroy. Once we start gathering information, we will be able to figure out what to do. We will have stations set up that will supply food and water. If you have found your loved ones and you are safe, the best thing you can do is help us organize people here." While she spoke, Snow's eyes were tracking the crowd looking desperately for Johanna or her son. She saw David doing the same thing. "Can you see him?" she asked, hoping her husband's greater height would give him the advantage.

"No, not yet," David said. She could hear the anguish in his voice, though he tried to hide it.

The nuns arrived and set up the tents to supply food and water. Snow and David continued walking through the crowd, reassuring people and directing them, but also asking them if they had seen a seven-year old, curly-haired, blond boy.

Ruby had quietly volunteered to "track him". Snow had grasped on this eagerly and clutched Ruby's hand, "thank you." Her eyes glimmered with hope.

Emma watched her go doubtfully. "I know she helped with the whole Katherine thing, but maybe someone should go help her."

"Believe me Emma, she is the best one suited for the job," said Snow firmly. "If anyone could find him, it would be Red."

"Holy shit," Emma realized. "She's really…"

Snow looked up when her name was called. Emma watched as an older woman moved quickly toward Mary Margaret and grasped her in a hug. "Oh Snow," she said. "I'm so glad you're safe."

"Where's Ashton?" David asked anxiously behind Snow. "Do you know what Ash is, Johanna?"

Her face was troubled. "No, I'm so sorry your highness," she said sadly. "I was hoping that he would be here. When the curse hit I was holding him tightly but… then we all just..." her voice faded as tears slid down Snow's face. She reached her hand out blindly and David immediately grasped it.

Emma watched her parents' faces as they ran a gamut of emotions. Mary Margaret had been her friend, her family first, so it was hard to see her in pain. But looking at the anguish on David's face made her just as upset. Her feelings about them were completely mixed up, but she hated seeing their pain, loss.

Snow leaned her head against her husband's chest for a moment, then straightened. She knew she didn't have the luxury of despair.

"The town's so much bigger than you would think," David murmured against her hair.

Henry was looking about, standing on his toes to try and see over the crowd of the adults.

"Mama! Papa!" screamed a little voice.

Several heads in the crowd turned hopefully but in a blur, a small figure buried itself into Snow.

"Mama!"

Snow lifted up the child into her arms and David reached around to hold both of them. The little boy was sobbing as Snow gently tried to rock him. David kept petting the boy's head, like he couldn't believe he was there.

After some time, Snow forced herself to hand their son to his father.

Ashton reached out and patted David's cheeks, like he did when he was a toddler. "Papa," he mumbled into David's shirt.

Emma felt uncomfortable watching the family reunite. The looked like a real family, a whole family. She felt like one of those "find what doesn't match" pictures in the magazines she use to look at as a child. She grabbed Henry, who had been quietly watching the proceedings, and tried to inch away inconspicuously.

Snow saw the movement instantly, and reached out to draw Emma and Henry to them. David held the little boy in his arms as they faced Emma, and Snow kept her hand possessively on Emma's arm. She refused to let either of her children out of her sight. "Ashton, this is your sister, Emma."

Ashton looked at her, confusion marring his features. "The curse made her big?"

"In a way," David said awkwardly. "There's a lot we need to talk about. But that's not important right now."

Ashton stared at Emma, scrutinizing her from head to foot. The laser-like attention unnerved her a little, so Emma stared at him back. He was a beautiful kid. His hair was a mass of tight blond curls. He had eyes the same color as his…as their mother. His eyelashes were long enough to make him look dreamy and pensive.

Unnerved, Emma drew her hand out of her jean's pocket and went to shake the little boy's hand.

Ashton bypassed her hand and put both little arms around her neck. She felt his lips brush her cheek. Then he drew back to look her in the eyes.

"Hello Emma, I'm your big brother."


	2. Chapter 2: Names

Big Brother - Ch. 2: Names

_Reposting because my little deelie-bobs didn't show a separation between scenes and that bugged me. Thanks so much for the reviews!_

Her brother, Emma found, was a bundle of noise and energy. He seemed to have an overwhelming desire to be heard by the entire town. Emma winced as she heard him bellow again. Or the entire state.

"Mama! I can't find my shoes!"

"Which shoes?" returned Snow calmly.

"My real shoes, the ones the cobbler made special for me!"

"Your boots are in the back closet behind your Papa's winter clothes!"

"I can't see them! They're not here! They're…," he said with a bit of a wail. "Oh, here they are," his voice changed to its calmer state.

By the door, David laughed. Henry stood beside him, impatiently waiting for his little uncle to join them. They looked at one another and rolled their eyes.

"I don't know what you're laughing at," said Snow to David, turning her back to the sink where she was washing dishes. "You couldn't find your coat the other day." She turned her attention to Henry. "And don't even get me started on what _you've_ lost." Both of them instantly decided there was something better to look at.

Emma swallowed a chuckle from her place at the kitchen table, before Mary Margaret could focus her attention on her.

Emma had seen it in movies, or television shows. The mom seemed to know automatically where everything in the house was located. She thought that was just a TV thing. In Mary Margaret's case it was utterly true. Henry's coat? Hung on the bathroom hook. David's holster? Slung on the bed frame. Ashton's socks? Under the couch, by his sketchbook, Henry's homework, and a mysterious candy bar. While the boys in the family seemed to take it for granted that Mary Margaret would know these things, Emma was determined to be independent. That was until last week when she came back inside the apartment after forgetting what she needed and began wandering the small space, in hopes that she would a.) remember what she was looking for and b.) remember where that mysterious object would be located. He face pinked when Mary Margaret went sailing by, thrust her gloves into her hands and proceeded to wrap a scarf around Henry's throat. Magic? Emma was truly thinking this might be the case. Whatever it was, it made her a fantastic mother, grandmother, and wife.

Ashton rushed down the stairs. "Mama still has to do my hair," he panted.

"I'll do it," David said, trying to rescue his wife from having to tear herself away from the dishes.

"Noooo," Ashton said, trying to keep the hairbrush out of his father's reach. "It has to be Mama. She's the one who can deal with curls."

David held his hands up in mock surrender as his son trotted over to his mother with hairbrush in hand.

Applying water and mom magic, Snow tamed the curls so they sat neatly on Ashton's head. That would change of course, the instant he stepped outside. But for five minutes, his hair would look neat. "There you go, baby."

Ashton straightened up, and adjusted the tiny vest he had insisted on. "Like Papa?" he inquired eagerly.

Snow brushed the tip of his nose with her finger. "Just like."

By the door, David grinned and put a hand on Henry's shoulder. "C'mon, Ash! We won't have enough time to play if you don't get going!" said Henry.

"Kisses Mama," Ashton said, turning his face up expectantly. Snow leaned down and gave him two quick kisses.

Ashton then ran over to Emma. "Kisses Emmy," he demanded.

Emma found out early, that her family was prone to physical affection. They used touch as a cornerstone to gauge emotion, offer comfort, relieve sadness, and show love. Where she was still somewhat uncomfortable with David and Mary Margaret (had gone backwards actually with Mary Margaret after finding out she was her mother), she was unable to resist either her son or her brother. She brushed her lips against his cheek. "Bye."

Ashton ran to his father who picked him up and threw him into the air. "Onward men!" David shouted.

Henry hauled the three swords over his shoulder and waved. "Bye, mom. Bye, Gramma!"

When the door had closed behind them, Snow cleared her throat softly. "I can talk to Ashton."

"About what?" Emma turned her gaze to her mother.

"About all of the kissing…and the name."

"Wh-, I don't,"

"You make a face, when he calls you Emmy."

Emma instantly felt guilty. "I don't mean too. It's just…weird." She'd never had a nickname. Refused to have one actually. When people called her "Em" she would state flatly "my name is _Em-ma_". One person had tried to call her Emmy. "Emmy and Emma have the same amount of syllables" she had sniped. "Can't you get the right ones?" She had been a bit of a snot about it really. When she was older, she had realized the reason for her intransigence. She had two things from her "real family", her blanket and her name. Even with all the doubts and hurt, she had been unwilling to give up either.

"It's our fault really," said Mary Margaret, coming to sit beside her. "We were sure you were going to be a girl and we picked out your name early on in my pregnancy. When we talked about you to him, we'd say Emma this and Emma that."

"Yeah?" Emma knew that Mary Margaret was her mother but it still amazed her to think that this woman had carried her for nine months. Had planned for her, dreamt of her, talked about her.

"Of course," Mary Margaret lay her hand gently over Emma's. "Ash started calling you Emmy. Like 'I think Emmy would like stars in her nursery'. Or 'I think Emmy would like chicken for supper'. We just started calling you that too. Well that and…" She trailed off, looking away from her daughter.

Emma squeezed her mother's hand. "What else did you call me?" she asked, trying not to sound too curious.

"Well, _baby_ of course." Mary Margaret suddenly seemed shy, but her fingers seemed to rise of their own accord to brush Emma's hair behind her ear.

Emma's heart constricted a little. Right, she had been someone's baby. Snow and David's baby. She blushed, both touched and uncomfortable. "He can call me Emmy. I mean, I don't care."

Snow gave her a gentle smile.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Names were interesting. Henry was always Henry, unless he was "kid". Ashton was either Ashton, Ash, or to his parents "little man" or "mansie". Emma tried calling him "little man" once.

He had protested instantly. "I'm your big brother, you can't call me that," he said firmly.

"Kid?" Emma tried.

"That's what you call Henry. Besides I'm your…"

"Big brother. Yeah, I get it. But I'm not going to call you by your _name _all the time," Emma sighed.

"Why not?"

"I just…don't," she shrugged. "Kiddo? Bud? Tiger?" she tried.

Ashton made a face. "Those are little kid names, and I'm your b-"

"I know what you are," interrupted Emma. "Fine. I'll just call you Bubba then," she smirked, expecting an instant protest.

Ashton looked thoughtful. "That's what you call brothers?" he asked.

"That's what some people call their brothers," Emma replied honestly.

Ashton nodded his head firmly. "Okay. You can call me Bubba. Or my actual name. That would work too."

Emma smirked. Bubba. Mary Margaret was going to love this.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"Bubba?!" Mary Margaret said incredulously. "You're calling my son, Bubba?"

"I'm calling my brother, Bubba," said Emma gravely, trying not to burst out laughing. Mary Margaret was amazing about a lot of things, and almost always on an even keel. But clearly her "princess" genes were causing some consternation.

David was laughing quietly by the refrigerator ever since Ashton had sped out of the room shouting "bye Emmy!" and she had shouted out "bye, Bubba!"

Mary Margaret speared him with a glare and returned it to Emma, trying to modulate her tone. "Emma, Ashton is a…prince. He is someone the other children look up to. He can't be called…Bubba!"

David waved his hands weakly from his place on the floor. "Stop. I can't breath."

"If you can't breath, you shouldn't be talking," Mary Margaret warned.

David picked himself up from the floor and walked over to his wife, encircling her from behind with his arms. "It's just a nickname, love. It's sweet. Emma chose it for her brother."

Mary Margaret bit her lip, looking at Emma anxiously, obviously afraid she was breaking this fragile bond between the siblings.

Emma felt a little bad for teasing her mother, but damn, it was a lot of fun.

"I suppose…it's a little cute," said Mary Margaret, doubt lacing every word. "Maybe if you only use it at home, then?" she said the last part hopefully.

Emma shook her head with mock-regret. "I'll try…"

David winked at her over his wife's shoulder, eyes sparkling with matching mischief.

The next week, Emma had to bite her tongue when every so often, Mary Margaret would look at her son, whisper "Bubba", and shake her head.

Priceless.


	3. Chapter 3: Presents

_Thank you so much for the reviews, follows, and favorites. There's a certain delight in playing with the slightly different dynamics of the Charming Family. Enjoy!_

**Ch. 3 Presents**

Having so many people in one place made accommodations a little crowded. Snow and David shared her bed in the alcove off of the living space. Ashton and Henry shared the bed upstairs. They managed to carve out enough space for Emma upstairs to have her own little alcove as well.

When Emma walked into her small space that night, there was an unfamiliar object sitting on her bed. She walked closer and picked it up. It was a stuffed swan. She heard a small movement behind her and turned around.

Ashton peered at her, his body slightly hidden by the curtain. He was dressed neatly in light green pajamas.

"Lose a friend Bubba?" she asked him curiously.

He shook his head and continued to scrutinize her carefully. He stepped a little closer to her.

Emma sat down on the bed. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Hesitantly, Ashton moved until he was standing pressed next to Emma's leg. She could feel his warmth through his pajama pants. "It's yours," he said confidingly.

"Uh, no Bubba. I don't have any stuffed animals."

Ashton grasped the little swan with both hands so they were both holding it. "It's yours," he said again. "I bought it for you. Back home."

Emma turned her gaze back to the little swan. She tentatively stroked the fuzzy feathers. "A swan?"

He nodded, a smile crinkling his face. "There was a ball for my seventh birthday, and Mama felt you kick when the musicians began playing the Swan Ballad. It was the first time you moved. Mama said you were dancing too."

It was sweet, but also unnerving that a seven-year old was telling her about her activities in the womb. If she thought about it too much, she tended to get a headache. It also reminded her too much of what she had lost and what her family had lost because of the curse.

"I must've liked the music then, huh?" She went back to his original comment. "You bought it for me?"

"Uh-huh. Papa was buying you sooo many things. Your nursery was almost filled up."

Emma looked at him carefully. "Papa bought me a lot of things?" she barely stumbled over the word.

"Yes. So many toys and dolls and things. Mama kept laughing and said there wouldn't be any room for the baby – that was you Emmy – in her own nursery," Ashton waved his hands to show the enormity of the amount of presents.

Emma smiled a slightly, unable to fathom that she was so wanted that she had a pile of presents before she was even born.

Ashton seemed unaware of her thoughts. "I told Papa I wanted to get you something too, since you were my baby sister. I made him take me to the market," Ashton wiggled a little in his earnestness. "I looked and looked and looked but I couldn't find anything I really liked," his little face was downcast at the memory.

Emma touched his shoulder gently, "I'm sure I would have loved anything you gave me. After all, I was just a baby."

Ashton shook his head so hard his curls danced. "No," he said stubbornly. "It had to be perfect 'cause it was my very first gift for you."

Emma nodded her understanding into his serious green eyes.

"I told the toymaker exactly what I wanted. I chose gold and purple because they're royal colors. I found the softest material I could find, 'cause you can only have soft things for babies, 'cause they're very fragile," Ashton took Emma's hand and ran it over the creature's fur again to show it's velvetiness.

"It's really soft Ash," she agreed quietly.

"Papa said he would pay for it, but I wouldn't let him. 'Cause I'm your big brother and it wouldn't be right. I paid for it with my own birthday money," Ashton stated proudly.

Emma cleared her throat and tried to respond. Nothing came so she tried again. "That's really, really nice Ash. I love it."

The smile that broke over Ashton's face rivaled the sun.

"Where did it come from? I mean, in Storeybrooke?" Emma asked curiously. Had Ashton carried it with him all this time?

"Yesterday, I went into Mr. Gold's shop with Papa and I saw it. I knew right away that it was yours. So today I waited until only the pretty lady was there. Then I went in to get it."

"You mean Belle?" Emma asked.

"Yeah, I knew if it was just her, I'd be fine. Papa taught me how to deal with girls when I wanted something," he bragged guilelessly.

"Papa taught you how to _deal_ with girls?" she repeated dryly, making a mental note to give David endless shit about that. And maybe hold it over his head and threaten to tell Mary Margaret.

"Uh-huh. I made my eyes real big and I was a perfect gentleman. And I told her the truth! I said that the swan belonged to my baby sister and I got it for her myself and that she should have it back. 'Cause it was _yours_. Not Rumpelstiltskin's," he added, in case she was confused about the ownership.

"What were you going to do if that didn't work out?" asked Emma curiously.

"I'd have stolen it back," he said simply.

She gazed at him, surprised. Ashton was one of the most moral kids she had ever known. "Seriously?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied frankly. "I mean, it's yours anyway. Plus, that's what Mama would have done."

"Mary Margaret would have stolen something!?" she asked scoffing lightly.

Ashton smiled again. "Of course. That was what she did before she met papa."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh she had too 'cause the Evil Queen chased her out of the castle and she had to run, and run, and run so she wouldn't die."

Emma felt a small twinge. She really should have paid more attention to Henry's book. "So how did she meet David?"

"Well he…wait. I'll get Papa to tell the story! He tells it really funny. Not like Mama. Mama tells it mushy."

"Wait Ash, he doesn't have to…"

But her brother had already scampered off, hollering eagerly for their father.

Emma groaned a little and went to lean against the headboard of her bed. She _was_ kind of curious though. Maybe it wouldn't be too weird.

She heard Ashton bypass Henry and Mary Margaret who were playing their fifth or sixth game of Stratego. In the short amount of time since Henry had taught her, Mary Margaret had become deadly at Stratego. To his secret delight, she also didn't believe in "letting kids win", so she was a worthy opponent in his eyes.

David arrived in Emma's alcove with a bemused expression on his face and Ashton ensconced firmly in his arms. "Ash said you wanted me to tell you a story?"

"Uh…not really. I mean, I didn't bring it up," she shot her brother an evil glare.

"I was telling her about how you and Mama met," interrupted Ashton, "but you tell the story much better."

A smile flitted across David's face. He sat down on the other side of the bed, facing Emma with his legs stretched parallel to hers. He arranged Ashton in his lap. "Sure, I can do that." He cleared his throat and began:

"_One day I was travelling by carriage in the deep woods. My companion Abigail, was unhappy about the trip and she was making sure I knew it too…"_

As David weaved the story, Emma closed her eyes to imagine her parents. It wouldn't have been that long ago, for them. Certainly less than ten years. Surprisingly, it wasn't hard to imagine her mother (definitely her mother and not Mary Margaret) leaping onto a horse with stolen jewels and clouting her future husband across the face with a fist-sized stone. She couldn't say that David wasn't as "mushy" as Mary Margaret though. Even though he described Snow as "a grimy but beautiful little thief" and a poor loser (apparently, stringing up the future love of you life in a net was not the way to win her heart), every syllable was laced with love and fondness. Emma felt her heart warm, seeing once again how much they loved one another.

David glanced to his daughter, who had her eyes closed and a faint smile on her face, to his son, whose eyes were open in tiny slits. There could be no doubt that they were siblings. He felt profound love, possessiveness, and protectiveness as he looked at his children. He could never be without them again.

As the story drew to an end, Emma heard the wistfulness in David's tone. Even the recollection of saying good-bye to his beloved, wounded him a little. In a man like that, the memory of losing his daughter must be like a knife. Emma allowed herself to consider her parents' pain. It was hard because it reminded her of her own pain, both in being abandoned and in abandoning her son. But being in their presence, spending each day with them…it was different. She could see the love in her parents' eyes, feel the affectionate clasp of her son's hand. There was pain, but there was forgiveness too.

Emma realized the story had ended when she felt her father shift. She opened her eyes to see him cradling Ashton in his arms. Ash was completely conked out; mouth open, arms twitching.

"I'm going to put him to bed," whispered David unnecessarily.

Emma nodded, "okay".

She stayed on the bed, too comfortable to get up, thinking about her family. The warmth overcame her, and within minutes, she was sleeping. She didn't hear as David parted the curtain, intending on inviting her to have hot chocolate with the rest of the family. She didn't see him cautiously run two fingers across her brow. And she definitely didn't feel his hands as they tucked the blanket around her, and his lips press themselves against her temple.

"Goodnight, Emma," he whispered.


	4. Chapter 4: A Bad Week

Ch. 4: A Bad Week

Emma stared grumpily at the newspaper. It had been a rough week. While things seemed to be at a standstill with Regina, there were hundreds of Fairy Tale inhabitants with sob stories or a chip on their shoulders. As sheriff, Emma was insanely busy. At home, she felt like she was constantly tripping over family members, and as well-meaning as they were…it could be annoying.

Then this morning when she awoke, she had found her parents and brother piled in bed together. It wasn't the first time. They looked so comfortable together. They looked like a family. A family that didn't need a plus one. But as soon as she thought that, the thought receded in remorse. Emma liked to think of herself as an honest person, someone who not only could see through others, but was able to see through self-deception as well. And, she was an observer, maybe by both nature and circumstance. She saw the love Snow and David's eyes when they looked at one another. She saw it when they looked at Ashton and at Henry. She saw it when they looked at her. Emma knew she was loved, and that made some of the heart-ache lessen, but it didn't erase it entirely. And it sure as hell didn't make everything _right_ or easy.

Emma shook her head to remove these bothersome thoughts, and tried to focus on the paper. She also tried to ignore the sound of Ashton unknowingly slurping his cereal and her mother humming (in an otherwise hilarious, tuneless fashion) as she managed some kind of paperwork in the living room.

She noted absently that after Sidney had been somewhat reinstated as a reporter and others had joined the staff, the quality of the paper had significantly improved.

She felt something bounce across her head. Impatiently, she shook her head and tried to read the article about the mysterious marks spreading around town. Really, did she have to be reading about this along with everyone else? She was the sheriff for G-d sake. Why hadn't anyone reported this to _her_?

_ Tom Piper and is wife report that they first found _

_ the graffiti on the back of their barn. Although they_

_ weren't initially concerned they now believe that…_

She felt something brush her cheek, and looked around in irritation. Nothing. "Mary Margaret, do you have a window open?" she called out.

"No," her mother called back simply.

Emma's forehead scrunched in irritation. She went back to the article, making a note into her head to talk to the victims and remind the Storybrooke Herald who exactly was in charge of this…

This time she heard a distinct _plink_ sound. There was a Cheerio floating in her coffee. She looked across the table. Ashton was absorbed in a comic book but the faintest of smiles quirked his lips.

"Ash, knock it off," she grumbled.

"What?" his eyes widened in innocence.

"Stop throwing cereal at me."

"I'm eating my cereal."

"Yeah, you're eating it, and throwing it at me. Stop."

Ashton gave an elaborate "I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about" shrug and resumed eating his cereal.

Emma glared at him for a full minute longer (which he studiously ignored), then went back to the paper. She looked up every minute or so. She felt herself being unwillingly pulled her out of her earlier depression. Henry and Ashton brought out the child in her. When they wanted to make forts, build with Legos, or make sugary creations, she was right there with them. She had known that she had missed out on the bigger childhood events of having a family, but she hadn't realized how many small things she had missed out on as well. Foster care, even with those who had meant well, couldn't help but have an institutional feel. This place, her family was the exact opposite of that. They were warm, mercurial, stubborn, loving. Even with the lack of space, she couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

Ashton continued to read his comics, seemingly absorbed in the adventures of the X-Men.

Emma got caught up in the newspaper again, noting that ten people had seen this mark. Ten! How had this not been reported? She should have at least heard about this from the gossips at Granny's. Sometimes it was like…she felt a splat as soggy cereal made contact with her face.

This time, Ashton's giggles erupted and he nearly choked on his cereal. He banged his spoon weakly on the tablecloth.

Their mother sailed in to get more coffee and summed up the situation quickly. "Ashton Blythe," said Snow in pretend shock, but a firm look. "You may not throw food at your sister."

Ashton sobered but his face bore a faint trace of his smile. "Sorry mama."

"Apologize to your sister."

Ashton turned to her and she could see a distant level of concern at her unsmiling face. By this time she usually would have grinned back. "Sorry Emma?" he said, voice lilting into a question.

"Apology accepted," she said quietly.

She watched as his lips pouted a little in disappointment at her reaction. He chose another comic book, and then quietly went back to reading.

Snow slid by him, brushing her fingers against his head, then strode by Emma after repeating the action on her daughters curls.

Emma fought with herself for a moment, then gave in to her impish side. She rose to take her bowl to the sink but turned sharply and dumped the leftover milk on her brother's head.

Ashton howled in surprise and dismay. He looked at her in amazement, milk dripping over his curls and down his face.

She gave him a _gotcha_ grin. The answering smile made hers widen.

With all the playfulness of a golden retriever puppy, he grabbed a fistful of cereal and flung it in her general direction. Cereal, not being especially flight-worthy unless launched from a spoon (which he had discovered earlier) rained down on the floor.

Emma yanked the box from his hands and poured the rest of the cereal over him, including the leftover cereal dust that mixed with the milk.

Ashton grabbed a handful of sugar from the sugar bowl but was giggling so hard that he ended up on the floor.

A sharp gasp made them both turn. Their mother stood, taking in the scene in one glance. Where her tone with Ashton earlier had been indulgent, her eyes now reflected genuine incredulousness and exasperation, but under that…under that Emma could see the love. She looked like a mom. Their mom. Emma felt her earlier sadness drift away entirely.

Ashton immediately looked guilty. For a moment, Emma felt a twinge of embarrassment and guilt. Then she remembered "right, I'm _twenty-eight_". She couldn't help it, she laughed again.

Ashton looked at their mother under milk-laden curls. "Sorry mama," he said in a small voice.

Emma's smile turned into a smirk, and she gave a wink in Ashton's direction. "Yeah, sorry…mama."

Snow's shock turned to something more tender, and she looked at Emma with tear-filled eyes.

Emma felt the urge to run, but she held her mother's eyes steadily, trying desperately not to drop her gaze. She didn't know if she could call her mother that when she wasn't being flippant, or teasing, but in this moment, she gave her mother the gift of _possibility_.

Her mother cleared her throat and rolled her eyes. "I cannot believe you just had a food fight."

Ashton looked remorseful. "It was my fault mama. I started it."

Their mother grabbed a towel and started wiping her son down with it. "I gathered that," she said drily.

Emma watched, bemused as her mother used the kitchen sink to scrub the cereal out of Ashton's hair, then sent him to get fresh clothing.

He looked back, his little face furrowing in concern. "Is Emma in trouble too?"

Snow retained a sober expression as she glanced at her daughter, but her eyes sparkled with humor. "Tons."

Snow walked over to Emma, dishcloth in hand and used it to wipe her daughter's face.

Emma stood stock still for a moment, remembering their time in the Enchanted Forest, when her mother had wiped the tears from her cheek. She had pulled away then, unable to let herself be comforted in that way. The emotion had been too much, too strong. She caught her mother's hand, the emotion of the day, the week, bubbling within her.

Snow gazed at her steadily, for once not trying to push.

Emma moved carefully and lowered her head to her mother's shoulder, giving her a tight hug.

She felt Snow squeeze, then rub her back in comfort. "Better?" she asked obviously meaning more, meaning everything.

"Yeah," Emma said. "Much better."

Notes:

Okay, this was one of the first scenes I imagined in my head when I thought of this story. However, I despise when otherwise thoughtful people degenerate into acting absolutely infantile when faced with family. For the most part, Emma is a serious person. However, there are little touches of childishness in Emma (not in a bad way). When she complains to Graham about working the night shift, when she whines to her parents about the car ride to the bean field, the stake-out with Henry, the scene with her and Snow about Tamara. Hopefully I merged these facets of the character in a realistic fashion.


	5. Chapter 5: Conversations

Ch. 5: Conversations

_This takes place after the New York episodes and after much of Snow's big depression from killing Cora. I'm trying to keep these stories mostly humorous with plenty of family bonding. This one went in a more…sentimental direction than I had intended. I hope Emma and David's interactions ring true. We've had so few of them that remaining IC is questionable sometimes. _

_Thanks again for the reviews, follows and favorites! Anyone else look at your stats and wonder "who is that lone person in Brazil reading my story?" No? Just me? Alright then._

"I'm not going to punch him, Snow," Emma could hear the aggravation in David's voice, as low as it was. "I'm not some one of those fathers on an idiotic sitcom. I know how to control myself."

Mary Margaret's voice was soothing. "I know you are, love. But you can't keep looking at him like you want to cut something off."

A pause. Emma closed her eyes and imagined her father's face from her position at the top of the stairs.

"I'm not." Guilt and defensiveness mixed together.

Another beat.

"I'm not!"

"David. I see it. Emma sees it. Ash sees it. Even Henry sees it, and you know it can't be good for him."

Irritated silence now. "It's not really like I have a choice anyway. _Emma_ wants to talk to him."

"Yes, she does. And we need to support her."

This time her father's voice was wounded. "I do support her." Then his voice grew irritated. "Still. Whenever I see him, I want to punch him in the face."

Emma could hear her mother's smile. "You can want to. Just don't act on it."

"It's not that he…that he defiled her."

"Oh honey, really? It was hardly a defiling. Just sex."

The silence this time sounded pained. "Can we please, never, ever discuss our daughter's sex life again? Ever?"

'Oh God,' Emma begged from her hiding place. 'Please let them never discuss my sex life again.'

"Really David," her mother remonstrated. "We weren't even married when we made love for the first time."

Her father responded quietly, "that was different. And that's my point. He left her. He left her to sit in jail, pregnant with his child. She couldn't even try to heal, because she had a constant reminder that he left her!" Her father's voice had gotten louder until it rose to an angry, whispered hiss.

Emma felt tears prick her eyes as she heard her parents move to one another. Her mother made soft, comforting noises.

"I know David. I hate it as much as you do. You know that. You know my…heart."

David made a noise of wordless agreement.

"But it won't help Emma to have us hurt Neal, or even look like we want to hurt Neal. It will upset Henry and only complicate things further between she and him and him and us. She doesn't need that."

"I know. I just hate what he did to her. Hate what it _did_ to her. I know we hurt her, by letting her go." His voice broke a little. "Sending her here. But opening her heart to him, her first romantic love…he killed that innocence. Maybe if that hadn't happened she'd be willing to…let me hold her more often. Not be so afraid of showing us affection."

Her mother seemed to drawn in her breath. "We don't know that those issues are connected. David, she's come such a long way. And she loves us all so much. She just shows in in an "Emma" manner."

"I know."

"You want her to run and throw herself into your arms. You want to pick up and twirl her around and watch her laugh."

This time her father's voice was so low, Emma could barely hear it. "Yes."

Emma's heart contracted with the longing in his tone.

She could hear her parents sink into their bed and her father's voice spoke again, rougher this time. "Remember our Emma stories?"

Emma's breath caught.

"Emma's first step? Emma's first ball? Emma's first archery lesson?"

"Sword," her father quickly corrected, then chuckled. "Yeah. Emma's first courtship."

"You could barely talk about it. You started to sputter even thinking of eligible boys. In fact, I think we only got to number five when you turned your head into your pillow said you didn't want to talk about it anymore."

Emma imagined her mother using her fingers to count.

"Prince Grayson wasn't nice to his sister."

"He pinched her!"

"Prince Edward was too self-centered."

"He only ever talked about himself."

"He was three, dear. Most of his sentences were comprised of 'Edward do this'."

Emma felt laughter bubble up, overwhelming the dismay. They had been picking her dates?

"Prince Hunter…something about his ears?"

Sheepish silence. Then her father chuckled quietly. "They weren't good enough for our Emma."

"Oh, Charming," her mother murmured. "None of them were ever going to be."

Emma felt a few tears finally slip down her face. No. Even on her darkest days, she couldn't doubt their love.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

The next day, David and Mary Margaret had planned to do some "bonding time" with both boys. It was also a good excuse to get Mary Margaret out of the apartment for awhile. The plans became slightly derailed when Ashton complained about "feeling funny".

"I suppose one of us could stay here with him," David said, telegraphing meaning to Mary Margaret as Emma watched in dismay.

"No!" Having either of her parents here with Neal would be a disaster. But she needed to be here. This was the first place where she really felt she had a home. She needed to have this conversation with Neal in a place where she felt the strongest.

Her parents looked at her in concern.

"I'll take care of him. Henry's been wanting some time with his grandparents," Emma finished honestly.

At that moment, Henry tramped down the stairs clad in a coat and a smile. "Gram, Gramps! You ready?"

Her parents nodded, then went upstairs to say good-bye to Ashton.

Henry nodded to Emma. "I told Ash I'd bring something back for him."

"You're a good nephew," Emma said with a smile, sitting on the steps beside him.

Henry's smile dimmed somewhat and he lowered his voice. "You're going to be nice to Dad, right?"

Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She and Henry had had a bit of a rough time after their visit to New York. She was reluctant to tell him her real reason for lying, but she didn't like having the "bad guy" label either. Henry had been downright rude until David had bluntly told him to "knock off the attitude". Henry had been both surprised and ashamed for the reproof. Emma had grouched about it to David, but privately relieved by the support.

"Your father and I are _both_ trying to be nice to one another," she said, trying for her father's sternness.

Henry looked abashed. "Sorry."

Emma touched his cheek lightly as her parents came down the steps. "Have fun with your grandparents."

"'kay," he waved as he opened the door.

David lightly touched her shoulder as he passed and Mary Margaret's fingers brushed her cheek, as she had done to Henry's seconds earlier.

"We'll be back soon," said her father.

"You can call us, if you need us," said her mother.

"I know," said Emma.

xoxoxoxoxo

Trouble started five minutes after Neal stepped through the door. They were sitting across the kitchen table from one another, engaging in small talk when Ashton thumped down the stairs.

He looked at Neal steadily. Even with his clothes wrinkled and hair rumpled, her brother had an unmistakable dignity.

"Hey little guy. I don't think we've been formally introduced. I'm Neal."

Ashton looked at Neal's proffered hand for about ten seconds too long, then offered his own. "Ashton," he replied coolly.

He turned to Emma and his face broke into his customary, easy smile. "May I have some juice please, Emma?"

"Sure," Emma rose to accommodate him. She could hear Neal chuckle somewhat uneasily. "What are you looking at kid?"

"You. I was thinking how good it was that our Henry looks like Emma and his grandmother."

Emma spun around. "Ashton!" she gritted out.

Ash blinked at her innocently.

Emma thrust the juice into his hands and pointed upstairs.

"Nice meeting you," said Ashton sweetly as he moved upstairs.

"Sorry," said Emma gruffly.

Neal moved his shoulders in response. "He's a kid. And he doesn't like me much. Neither do your parents. It's understandable."

Unfortunately their conversation didn't get much farther than that because during that course of time, Ashton interrupted them nearly ten more times.

After the tenth time, Emma grabbed his shirt and shook him slightly. "What the hell is going on?"

He shrugged. "I just needed some stuff."

"You did not need yesterday's copy of the comics and exactly seven grapes. Sliced! Why are you…"

Her forehead wrinkled in consternation as she glared at him. "You're trying to interrupt us so we can't talk!"

"Nooo. That's not what we wanted," he clapped a hand over his mouth.

Emma's temper flared. "You and Henry?" she demanded.

Ashton shook his head, eyes wide.

Emma remembered the conversation the night before. Her eyes narrowed. "You and Papa?"

This time the head shake was slower and he didn't look at her.

"Ashton Blythe, I swear to…"

"Emma, maybe I should get going. We can do this another time…" Neal began to rise, his hands raised placatingly.

"You sit," Emma said firmly. "We're going to get this talk over with."

"You," she turned back to her brother. "Go upstairs. You get to tell Mama when she gets back."

Ashton immediately paled. "Please don't make me tell Mama," he pleaded. "She's gonna be mad at me."

"I'm mad at you," Emma shot back. "Go!"

xoxoxoxoxoxoo

Emma managed to finish her conversation with Neal before the rest of the family got home.

She was viciously scrubbing a plate clean, trying to calm down when her parents and son walked in.

Mary Margaret sensed something right off. "Emma?"

"Ashton needs to talk to you," she said, looking at David.

Mary Margaret looked between them, and shook her head a little. "O-kay," she said heading up the stairs.

David winced, seemed about to say something, then looked at Henry instead. "Henry, go watch TV for a bit while your mother and I talk."

"Ok," said Henry cheerfully. "Mom, am I still going to the park with Dad tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Cool!". The blare of the television soon followed.

Her father hesitantly walked over to her. "Sorry," he mumbled. "It was stupid. I was being stupid."

"Did you have an actual plan, or was annoying me the plan?"

Her father raised a hand to the back of his neck and kneaded the skin there. "Uh, no that wasn't precisely the plan," he admitted.

Emma tapped her nails impatiently on the counter.

"It…he…I just," David slumped into a chair. "This is humiliating".

Unwillingly, Emma felt her anger receding. "What is?"

"I'm getting grilled. By my kid. For being an ass."

Emma felt a warm spot in her heart _my kid_ and slid in the chair across from him. She touched his arm.

He looked at her, the blue in his eyes reflecting embarrassment. He looked like Ash. He looked like _Henry_. Was it being caught in wrongdoing that gave them the same look? Or genetics?

"Why?"

He took a breath. "I was trying. I was. But I kept thinking about it and thinking about it…about what he did…about what he took and I…" He blew out a breath, frustrated with himself. "I lack your mother's tact. And I'm impulsive. It's a bad combination. I'm sorry Emma. Truly."

Emma smiled recognizing herself in those words. "I get it. But you don't have to protect me you know. I'm not a child."

David's gaze was so soft that she had to blink a little. "I will always try to protect you". He smiled a little. "I'll just…do it in a better way."

"More maturely?" Emma grinned.

"More subtle," her father smiled back. "Cunning."

"Not using a seven-year-old would help."

David winced. "Poor little man. He's probably bravely, trying not to incriminate his father right now. Naturally he has no chance against your mother." He lowered his head in mock regret. "So few, do."

Emma snorted when her mother's exasperated "_David_!" reached their ears. She shook her head at him.

He looked at her fondly. "It's good."

"What's good?"

"To have the kind of relationship where you can love deeply but also be confident enough to keep one another in check. Your mother and I…we didn't technically "grow up" together, but we did mature together. Sometimes the only ones we listened to were each other. True love is strong love. It means playing multiple roles."

David hadn't stopped looking at her and the intensity was so great that she wanted to close her eyes.

"Your mother and I want you to have that. We don't want you to ever settle for less than that. It's what you deserve."

Emma needed to run. She couldn't do this. She couldn't hear words like that. About what she was worth, or what she deserved.

David must've sensed this. He reached closer and closer until the warmth of his skin pressed on her own.

She was going to shake him off until she felt the faint trembling in his fingers. Her father was a brave man. He took chances that very few would emulate. But this scared him. Taking the chance she would reject his touch. As understanding as he would be, it would hurt him terribly. But he was willing to risk the hurt for _her_. To bring _her_ comfort.

Emma's fingers closed on his, and she smiled at him. "Thanks."

He brought her fingers to is mouth and kissed them gently, a gesture both courtly and loving. "That's what fathers are for."


	6. Chapter 6: Protection

**_Ch. 6: Protection_**

_This story takes place after the episode; __Selfless, Brave, and True__. This is one of the main ideas I had when I began this story. This chapter isn't really happy but I wasn't particularly pleased with how little the Charming family were able to deal with Gepetto's revelation. Just for the record, I think they have every right to be upset with Gepetto. Understanding the reasons, doesn't negate having an emotional response to the situation. This is me, letting them have an emotional, visceral response to this information. Also, I don't blame Little Pinocchio for leaving. He was a child. Adult August is a different story. Ashton has a different response, but hey, he's seven. Small children tend to see the world in black and white._

"This is Miss Marks, from Storybrooke Elementary. May I speak with Mr. Nolan or Miss Blanchard, please?"

The voice on the phone was unfamiliar. "No," Emma responded. "David and Mary Margaret aren't here."

"We've tried their numbers," said the administrative assistant at Storybrooke Elementary, "but we haven't been able to reach either of them."

Emma paused to think a moment. "They were going to the west side of town. Sometimes the cell phone reception isn't great. What's wrong?"

There was a pause, then Miss Marks cleared her throat. Delicately. "It's regarding Ashton. There's been a small incident."

"Is he okay?"

"He is fine, but he has been in a fight with a schoolmate and Principal Timmons believes it best to send him home for the rest of the day."

Emma groaned. "Seriously?"

"I'm afraid so your…Sherriff," the woman corrected instantly. "Could you…would you come get him?"

Emma looked forlornly at the paperwork she was trying to complete. "Sure," she sighed. "It's not like I have anything else I was doing." She slid her boots of the desk and grabbed her jacket. "Oh boy, Bubba," she muttered to herself. "What trouble have you landed in now?"

As she drove to the school, she tried to guess at her parents reaction. They wouldn't be pleased, that was for sure. They didn't seem to have a problem with fighting. That was pretty normal for their world. They would have a problem with it happening at school. Both of them took education seriously. Mary Margaret, of course, with her curse history. But Emma had been surprised to find that David took it even more seriously. Mary Margaret had said it was because he grew up poor and education was a privilege rarely extended to peasants. This made sense, of course, but it only showed Emma how different parents' childhood was from her own.

It didn't take long to make it to the school office. Her eyes instantly fell on her brother, who was sitting in one of the overlarge office chairs. There was a faint puffiness to his cheek, but otherwise, he seemed in good shape. When he saw Emma his lips compressed firmly and he folded his arms tightly to his chest.

Emma settled on giving him a menacing glare and turned to the woman at the desk. "Miss Marks?" she asked.

The black-haired woman seemed relieved to see her. "Sherriff Swan. Thank you so much for coming. Principal Timmons would like to speak to you about the incident. We can speak to his parents…your parents later."

Emma nodded shortly. "That's fine. I'm sure they will want to discuss it," she sent another glare in her brother's direction.

The inner office door opened and Principal Timmons stepped out. Emma had met him several times, so they weren't strangers. In the Enchanted Forest, he had been Emerson, a leader in her parents' army. Instead of returning to his former life, he remained the principal of the elementary school. When asked, he would say it was the harder job, and therefore the most worthy of his attention. Privately, he had not given up his role as protector. He kept his weapons stored safely at the school, should anyone attempt to harm the children. It was one of the reasons Snow, David, and Emma felt comfortable enough to send Henry and Ashton back to school.

"Principal Timmons," Emma said politely.

"You Highness," the man responded with a slight nod.

Emma let out an exasperated sigh.

"Sherriff Swan then," amended the burly man with a smile. "Thank you for coming in place of your parents."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Spotty cell phone coverage."

Principal Timmons gestured towards Ashton. "Please come into my office Ashton."

"Yessir," muttered the boy looking as if he were facing a firing squad. Emma knew that Emerson had given Ashton some weapons training in the Enchanted Forest and was known for not tolerating any nonsense.

When Emma and Ashton had seated themselves in his office, Principal Timmons spoke quietly. "Ashton has not had a very good day today. He instigated a fight with another student. Now, with our…new rules, fighting isn't forbidden, but there does need to be a degree of chivalry involved. And when a teacher says a fight is done, then it is done," he sent a meaningful glance towards Ashton.

"So, Ash wasn't fighting fair and he started the fight?" Emma clarified.

"Essentially."

"Ash?" That was totally unlike him. He was absolutely scrupulous about fairness.

Ashton folded his arms tighter and looked down at the ground.

"This is the problem," Principal Timmons said. "He refuses to explain, and has tried to attack the other boy repeatedly. We have an idea of the problem, but at this point, I think it would be best for him to go home, and calm down." He cleared his voice expectantly and Ashton looked at him again. "I imagine a discussion with his parents would be prudent as well."

Ashton winced faintly and Emma wanted to wince as well. She couldn't imagine that going well.

"Alright. I'll take him home. Thanks for letting me know." Emma nodded towards the door to get Ash moving. As she stood she turned to the principal. "Whose he having a problem with anyway? Ash gets along with almost everyone."

Principal Timmons looked at her with grave, gray eyes. "Pinocchio," he said simply.

Emma closed her eyes and turned towards her brother. He had already left the room.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Emma caught up with her brother easily. "Hold up Ash. Tell me what's going on." Ashton tried to shrug out of her grasp. "Nothing!"

"Nothing? Are you kidding me? What…"

Their conversation was broken by the sound of running. Emma was shocked to see Pinocchio fling himself at her brother. "Ash, please, please don't go away. Don't be mad at me!" Pinocchio's eyes were streaming tears and Emma could see bruises forming on his face.

Ash shook him off viciously. "I told you not to touch me. Get outta here before I smash your face in again!"

"Ashton!" Emma said in dismay.

Pinocchio looked at her, desperation painted on his features. "Please, tell him not to be mad at me. I don't know what I did. Please don't let him…"

Ashton used his shoulder to knock him to the ground. "Don't you touch her. Don't you talk to her. Don't even look at her!"

"Ash!" Emma grabbed her brother before he could start pummeling the other little boy.

Pinocchio looked up at them, bawling.

Ashton glared at him. "You are a traitor. You're a traitor to your kingdom and to your Queen!"

Pinocchio stopped bawling, staring at Ashton in shock. Emma could only stare at him too. His bearing was stiff, regal, and his eyes blazed a coldness that she had never seen in him.

"Pinocchio!" Gepetto hurried over to them, worry and concern lacing his voice.

Ashton's look became even more contemptuous. Gepetto swallowed, and tried to say something, but he couldn't hold the child's gaze.

"Marco, I'm sorry," said Emma, holding tightly to her brother's hand. "I really am, I…"

Gepetto shook his head, his hand trembling a little as he stroked Pinocchio's hair. "I understand his anger. But please do not let him hurt my boy."

Emma nodded. She wanted to say something else, but she couldn't find the right words. Instead, she marched her brother out of the school.

Behind them, they could hear Pinocchio howl. "I'm sorry Ashton! I'm sorry! Please don't be mad! Whatever I did, I'm sorry!"

Emma slammed the door of her Bug so hard, she thought it would fall off. "What the hell was that?" she demanded of her seated brother.

Her brother gazed out the windshield, his voice as tight as his folded arms. "It's betrayal." He closed his eyes tightly, but not before Emma saw a few tears leak out, and fall onto the upholstery.

xoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoox

The conversation that night was unpleasant. Their parents were displeased by the fighting but Emma was somewhat shaken to realize that her parents clearly understood her brother's anger.

"He was seven," Emma said as she helped her parents clean the kitchen and the boys had gone to bed. "What did you expect him to do?"

Snow breathed deeply. "We don't blame a seven-year-old for his mistakes," she said firmly. "But August, as an adult, made some very poor choices that greatly affected you Emma."

"I know that," Emma replied, irritated. "But you can't blame Pinocchio for what August did."

"I don't," Snow replied simply.

Emma narrowed her gaze at her.

"I really don't," Snow replied honestly.

"But you…I mean, you weren't really mad at Ashton for beating up Pinocchio," said Emma uneasily. She didn't want to advocate punishment for her brother but his reaction seemed extreme, and it worried her.

"I can't blame Ashton for being mad either," said her mother. "He needs to learn to control himself better, obviously. That's why he's not permitted to be anywhere around Pinocchio or Gepetto right now. But he does have a right to feel betrayed."

"Yeah, that's the product of _being_ betrayed," said David lowly, from his place at the sink.

Emma gazed worriedly at him, then back to her mother. Mary Margaret's eyes reflected the same darkness as her son and husband. "Gepetto did deceive us," she said softly.

Their pain was so thick, Emma had to fight her instinct to run away and escape the emotionally charged atmosphere.

Mary Margaret must have sensed this, because she reached over to grasp Emma's hand. "We'll figure this out," she assured her daughter.

When Emma looked at her father, the darkness cleared slightly from his eyes and he nodded firmly. "We will," he assured her.

Emma sighed, relieved and feeling a little silly that she had to seek reassurance from her parents. "Good. Because he just wanted to look out for his kid too. You guys know what that's like." She hoped saying it would remind herself of that as well.

Terrible sadness swept her mother's face and her father spoke softly from behind them. "We understand the urge to protect your child. We are having a hard time forgiving the fact that he risked your life and the lives of everyone in the kingdom to do so."

"Fair enough," said Emma quietly. Her heart felt heavy as she let herself think about all the ways her life would have been different if she had grown up with her mother. She felt Mary Margaret's arms around her and felt David's warm hand on her head. Well-meaning choices and the right choices. They weren't always the same.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Four days later, Emma wearily made her way over to Marco's storefront. The windows were shattered. "Shit," she mumbled to herself.

Gepetto refused to meet her eyes as he told her no, he didn't know who had done it. He'd been having a bad week. Somehow, word of what had happened with the wardrobe had gotten out and the townspeople were reacting badly to it. His inability to conjure magic made him an easy target for people who were eager to have revenge upon either Regina or Rumpelstiltskin. Two days ago, Mary Margaret and David had a town meeting where they had publically forgiven Marco and forbade the townspeople to seek retribution. Privately they were still deeply unhappy with Marco and Mother Superior but as Mary Margaret said, they were "trying to rise above it."

This was a definite setback. Emma sighed as she picked up some glass from the ground. She saw Red lurking uncertainly in the background. "You need something Ruby?"

Red came closer, and lowered her voice. "Ashton was here. I'm pretty sure he did this. His scent is everywhere."

Emma closed her eyes. "Shit," she said again. "Are you sure, Ruby?"

Red looked as unhappy as Emma felt. "Your family's scents is very familiar to me Emma. You're…it's my family too."

Emma nodded. She knew that. Knew that Ruby loved her family deeply and would protect them with her life. "I can't believe Ash did this," she said.

Red frowned. "I don't think you or Snow or David understand how _angry_ he is right now. He's trying to hide it but it's so heavy on him that he…" she trailed off. "I should have said something more to Snow."

Emma held up a placating hand. "This certainly isn't any fault of yours Ruby. Thanks for letting me know. I better…I better find him."

Emma helped Marco clean up the broken glass, then used the walkie-talkie to contact her son. "Henry-you there?"

A slight buzz then – "yeah".

"Is Ash with you?"

A longer pause then – "yeah…don't tell Gramma and Grampa, please Emma?"

Emma ignored the plea. "Are you in your tree fort?"

"Yeah," this time her son's voice was resigned.

"Stay there please. I'll be there in about five minutes." Emma clicked the walkie-talkie off and threw it into the passenger side of her car as she got in.

"'kay."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

When Emma got to the boys' fort, she climbed up the rope ladder to reach the top. David, Henry, and Ashton had built it over a period of a week. Each day they had come back, sunburned and smiling over the progress they had made.

Emma ducked through the door and stopped when she saw Ash huddled against Henry's side.

Henry had a consoling arm around his little uncle's shoulders, and his face was creased with concern. Henry looked at her with desperate eyes. "He's really sorry Mom. Honest."

Emma strode over them and tipped Ash's face to her own. His eyes were filled with tears but his cheeks were dry. His voice was choked when he said "I did something really bad."

Emma slid to the floor beside him. "I know that Bubba. Why did you break Marco's windows?"

Ashton's voice was full of anger and hurt. "Pinocchio and Gepetto betrayed us! Mama was supposed to go with you. To look after you. Instead Mama and Papa had to send you through all by yourself. That's what they thought! And Pinocchio. Pinocchio promised to look out for you. He promised! And he broke his word in less than three months!"

As he spoke, Emma realized he must have overheard conversations that had been conducted while they thought he was asleep, or at least not near them.

"Ash," she said, trying to calm him down. "He was only seven-"

"I'm only seven! I'm only seven Emma! Do you think _I_ would have left you? Would _I_ have left you alone?" his voice was anguished but his eyes burned into hers.

Emma traded an understanding gaze with Henry and shook her head reluctantly. She knew her brother would never have left her alone. They would have had to literally break his bones to loosen his grip from her. It hit her with a frightening suddenness. Her brother's love was only part of her parents' consuming love for her. In all her days alone, had she ever truly thought that she could be loved this deeply? She looked at her son's eyes. Had she ever known she was capable of loving this deeply?

She steadied her voice. "I know you never would have left me Ash."

Now the tears did spill down his face. "Pinocchio was my _best_ friend. I trusted him. He knew how important you were to us. He knew that and he _still _abandoned you. He's a _traitor_ and I _hate_ him!" The tears came fast now and Henry patted him uncertainly.

Emma pulled Ashton onto her lap and used one arm to sling around Henry's shoulders pulling him close to her. "I want you guys to listen to me. Okay?"

Both boys nodded seriously, Ashton's tears slowing and he tried carefully to hear her.

"What Gepetto and Pinocchio did had some serious consequences for all of us. I understand why you're mad Ash. I do. But if things didn't happen the way they did, I probably wouldn't have Henry, and I can't imagine my life without him," Emma's voice became tender.

Henry buried his face in Emma's shoulder, a little embarrassed and a lot overwhelmed at this declaration. "I was worth the bad stuff?" he asked uncertainly.

Emma kissed his head. "You are worth a million times the bad stuff," she said firmly.

She hugged Ashton tightly, "and I'm lucky enough to have the rest of my family back too," she declared.

They were silent for awhile, before Emma shook herself and dragged both boys to their feet. "C'mon. Someone has an apology to make."

Ashton held back stubbornly, revealing his heritage better than any DNA test. "I'm not sorry."

"Really? Because you seemed pretty upset a little while ago," Emma said pulling him to the doorway.

Ashton bit his lip. "I'm a little sorry. But Gepetto should be sorry too."

Emma looked into his stormy eyes. "He is sorry. He's so sorry that he doesn't know how he's going to make it up to us."

Ashton looked at her, trying to read the truth.

"Okay," he sighed. "I'll say sorry and clean up my mess. I guess I'll have to figure out how to pay for new windows." He followed her and Henry down the rope ladder. "Are you going to tell Mama and Papa?"

Emma shook her head. "No way. That'll be up to you."

Ashton's head dropped. "They are going to be so angry with me."

Emma nodded. "Probably. But they know where you're coming from."

"Bet that doesn't stop them from punishing me," said Ashton gloomily.

Emma nodded somewhat reluctantly. Her parents were definitely more old-fashioned in their child-rearing approach. Ash was not going to have a fun night. "Too bad buddy."

He eyed her suspiciously "but I deserve it?"

"You do. Sorry."

He sighed and shook his head. "You aren't a lot of help Emmy. If you were in trouble, I'd cover it up for you."

Emma eyed his speculatively. He probably would. He wasn't the tattling kind.

"Yeah, he's good that way," said Henry blithely from her other side.

"How would you know?" Emma asked warily.

Henry coughed lightly into his hand. "No reason," he said with bland innocence, not even trying to hide the fact he was lying.

_Great_. Emma sighed. "Ash, I can't help you with this because…I'm your sister but I'm also an adult. It's…different."

"And Gramma and Grampa would kill you," observed Henry cheerfully.

She switched her glare to her son. "They wouldn't _kill_ me. But you're right. They wouldn't be real happy. And since their helping me raise you…" she trailed off meaningfully.

"Like maybe they'd let me get away with stuff to get you back?" Henry seemed very gleeful about the idea.

"Which _isn't_ going to happen," Emma said firmly.

Henry's little smile was probably supposed to be a smirk, but it slipped into a genuine grin.

Ashton plodded beside them, in considerable less good humor.

Emma hesitated. She couldn't let him wallow. In his way, he had only been trying to protect her, to defend her from hurts that had been caused by others. "Ash?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for looking out for me."

Ashton's half-smile was full of love and affection. "I'm your big brother."


	7. Chapter 7: The Future Looks Bright

Author's Note: I said in the beginning, the story would jump around in time a bit. Here's the first big jump. Thanks so much for the reviews, I enjoy reading every, single one.

Ch. 7: The Future Looks Bright

Emma could hear the noise before she even opened the door. 'Wooden swords,' she thought. Again.

She walked around a "castle" made of sheets and pillows and stepped over hundreds of blocks.

When she made it through the minefield that was her living room, she found her youngest brothers, who were alternately using swords and trying to wrestle one another to the ground.

"Emmy!" shrieked Leo. "You're here in time for my final battle."

"It's not your final battle!" yelled Tanner. "I'm gonna fight the dragon!"

"More dragons!?" inquired Emma.

She heard a little growl behind her. "Rrrrr Mama. Rrrrr."

Emma's mouth dropped open. Her daughter was scootching along in her baby walker, pale green with a handmade tail trailing behind her.

She scooped up her daughter and turned to glare at her brothers. "What did you do to my baby?" she demanded.

"Sh-she's the dragon," Tanner stammered.

"So you painted her!?" Emma demanded.

"Only a little bit," Leo assured her.

"What the hell? You know better!"

They looked contrite. Kaelyn burbled in her ear, unbothered by the commotion. "Alright, here's how it's going to go. You guys are going to make sure this entire room is cleaned up in the next ten minutes, and I'll _consider_ not telling Mama that you painted her grandbaby."

Instant fear. "We'll clean up," said Tanner.

Leo nodded emphatically. "Puh-leeease don't tell Mama," he pleaded.

"We'll see," said Emma sweeping majestically out of the room.

Kaelyn laughed wildly as she carried her to the kitchen. Henry was pouring over some sort of drawing with his (she's-not-my-girlfriend-mom) _friend_, Ellie.

"Henry, are you supposed to be watching the kids?" Emma asked.

"Yeah," said Henry in a _please don't embarrass me mom_ tone of voice.

"Well, you're doing a crap job. The boys were in there painting your sister."

Henry had the grace to look chagrined as he wiggled Kaelyn's foot with one hand. "Sorry. I got busy."

'Busy doing what?' Emma thought suspiciously. Their clothes weren't mussed. She stripped Kaelyn and dumped her in the sink.

"Mom, all the books say bathing babies in the kitchen sink isn't really sanitary," Henry reminded her.

"Yeah? What do the books say about letting babies get painted in the first place?" Emma tested the water on one side of the sink, then used the sprayer to start squirting Kaelyn down. She giggled wildly.

Henry sighed. "We'll go upstairs."

"Leave the door open," Emma yelled as they left the room.

A grumble was his only reply.

_Both Snow and David had laughed when Emma had introduced the "open door" rule._

_"Is it a magic door?" asked David, not even trying to hide his grin._

_Emma looked at her parents, slightly confused. "Everyone does that. It's to keep them from having sex."_

_"We understand the purpose Emma, but if they really want to have sex, they'll have sex," said Snow, merriment lighting her face._

_"Well it will make it harder at least," Emma claimed firmly._

_Both Snow and David suddenly found the floor very interesting._

_"Oh my G-d," said Emma. "What are you guys, like fifteen? You're supposed to be good examples."_

_David raised his hands as if to protest, the put them back down without saying a word, obviously realizing they had no defense._

_"I suppose it will make it a __**little**__ harder," said Snow in a speculative voice._

_Emma glared at them. "If Henry gets some girl pregnant, I'm blaming you guys and your ridiculous tendency to screw like rabbits."_

_Her parents tried really hard to look offended, but it was hard to take offense when something was so blatantly true._

_After that conversation, in addition to the door being open, Emma had a tendency to "look in" on her son every few minutes._

"Ree, Ree," said Kaelyn splashing happily.

"Yeah, that's your brother. Big pile of hormones." Emma was thankful to find that the boys had used watercolors. She finished washing her daughter and realized she hadn't brought a towel. She swore softly and used half a roll of paper towels to swaddle Kaelyn.

She peeked in on her brothers to see them industriously picking up their toys. The sheet castle had already been dismantled.

"Let's go get you some clothes, baby," Emma said, starting up the stairs. When they reached the little girl's bedroom, she changed her daughter into pale lavender outfit and slung her over her hip.

She caught her mother as she was just leaving her room, looking flushed and rumpled. "Emma…," she began. Then she looked down at the little girl and frowned. "Why is my grandbaby damp?"

Her father moved behind her, buttoning his shirt. "What?" He immediately reached for Kaelyn. "How's my little princess?" he cooed sweetly, covering her face with kisses.

Kaelyn shrieked and reached for him. Emma gave her over easily. She rolled here eyes. "Really? Mom, you're going to pop any day now."

Her mother looked vexed. "I was supposed to 'pop' three days ago. This baby needs to come out. Now."

Emma couldn't help but grin. Her mother had become distinctly more surly as the due date had gone by and no baby appeared. "Sacrifices need to be made," she agreed, erasing the smirk from her face.

Snow reached out and swatted her arm. "Very funny, Princess."

David ignored them both and made ridiculous faces at his granddaughter. Kaelyn responded with gurgles of delight.

Snow paused a moment. "Wait – Henry was supposed to be watching the kids."

Emma rolled her eyes. "He has Ellie over. The only thing he was watching was her."

"Emma…"

"I know, I'll talk to him," Emma assured her mother. "Or maybe…," she switched her look to her father, "his Grampa needs to have another facts-of-life talk with his grandson."

David didn't look away from his granddaughter. "I had that talk," he sing-songed, "about five years ago…"

"Maybe you need to have it a-gain," Emma replied in the same tone.

"I remember that talk," said Snow. "Henry came back full of information about the breeding habits of rabbits, sheep, cows, and horses."

David finally looked away from Kaelyn in exasperation. "There's something unfair about me having to give double the amount of life talks than anyone else in the family."

Snow rubbed her stomach fondly. "Well, you won't have to do it for this one."

They gave each other one of those intimate looks that made Emma feel she wasn't in the room, then they looked at her, expressions tentatively hopeful.

She sighed loudly. "I told you guys it's cool. Stop looking at me like I'm going to run away like a teenager whose parents forgot her birthday." And it was cool. Maybe it wouldn't have been if she didn't already have three brothers…if she didn't have Kaelyn, but she did. She could handle this. She wanted to handle it. She wanted her parents to have everything they wanted. They deserved it. She closed her eyes. _Please let me be able to handle this_.

From the identical looks her parents were giving her, they didn't believe her. For a moment she hated herself. Hated that she couldn't just grow the hell up and deal with this. Let her parents be happy and not feel guilty. Again. Still.

"Emma," her father began.

She was inordinately thankful at that moment that Kaelyn began fussing in her grandfather's arms.

He jostled her rhythmically in his arms and tried again. "We…"

Emma talked over his like she didn't hear him. "Have you heard from Ash yet? I swung by to see if he was done, but the team was still practicing."

Snow sighed and traded a look with her husband, "not yet. But his practice has been going until 6:45 lately."

Emma drew her cell phone out of her pocket. "That's in fifteen minutes. I'll go now."

"You don't have too," David offered. "You just got home."

"No," Emma replied. "I told him I'd do it today." She trotted out what she hoped was a cheerful smile. "Please don't let the boys paint my baby again."

"They what?!" exclaimed Snow.

Crap. She'd gotten distracted. "Ummm," Emma started.

"Tanner! Leopold!" Snow called.

David rolled his eyes as Emma opened her mouth once more. "Don't even try Emma," he said sternly.

Emma grimaced and started out the door. The betrayed looks of her youngest brothers confronted her. "Sorry guys, they got it out of me," she lied. Wow, what a crappy daughter and sister she was today. She decided she needed to leave the house before she struck out with Kaelyn and Henry too.

"It's okay Emmy," said Leo seriously. "Mama and Papa are _really_ good at that." Tanner nodded.

She couldn't leave the house fast enough.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

When she got to the field, the Lacrosse team was just finishing up. She saw the eager faces listening seriously to the coach. Ashton, with the captain's mark on his shirt, seemed to be the most serious of all.

When the team huddle broke, he grabbed his gear and scanned the parking lot. As soon as their eyes met, he grinned. He loped over to the car and threw his equipment in the back seat. "Hey Emmy," he said, slapping the passenger side door with one hand and buckling his seatbelt with the other.

"Hey Bubba. How was practice?"

"Pretty good. Coach thinks we have a good chance of beating the Chimeras on Saturday."

"That's good," Emma said.

They travelled silently for awhile, Aston giving her sidelong glances every once and awhile. Finally he sighed explosively. "What's going on?"

"What? Nothing," said Emma decisively.

"I don't know why you even try lying to me," said Ashton. "You suck at it."

"Hey!"

"Please Emma? I can tell you're upset," he looked at her pleadingly.

Emma drummed her fingernails on the steering well, careful to look away from her brother.

"Is it the baby?" he asked.

Emma's head instantly swiveled towards him. "No!" she said angrily.

Ashton rolled his eyes. "It's okay for you to feel weird about it Emma. Everyone gets that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Emma asked.

Ashton looked incredulous. "I mean, seeing Mama and Papa raising a girl that isn't you is going to be hard," he clarified.

Emma shifted uncomfortably and stomped too hard on the brakes, causing them to jerk in their seatbelts. "Is the school offering psychology classes now, or what?"

Ash rolled his eyes, "We aren't stupid Emma."

G-d she hated this. Being so transparent…being so…textbook. She gritted her teeth and took the next turn a little too sharply.

"I'm a little scared too," Ashton admitted.

Emma's head swiveled on its own volition. "Why?"

"Well...," Ashton picked at a loose thread on his uniform shirt. "The last time I was having a baby sister, she got taken away. We lost her for a long time, and there was nothing we could do about it."

Emma pulled abruptly to the side of the road, her heart simultaneously beating hard, and aching with sadness. "Ash…" she began.

Ashton carefully continued not looking at her. "We were so excited. Even though we knew about the Queen's curse. We still tried so hard to make everything perfect. And we thought…we really thought that we would be able to beat her."

"We did beat her," Emma's throat was tight.

Ashton finally met her eyes, "Not before you were sent away. Not before we lost you. We didn't really win you know. We lost being with you. That's not a real for true win."

"It's a hard-fought win," said Emma quietly. "A sacrificial win."

Ashton shrugged his shoulders and resumed gazing at his lap. "If our new sister is born okay, it'll be a real sign. That things will be different. That something like that won't happen again." his finger twisted nervously in his shirt.

Emma grabbed one of his hands, "Is that how you see it?"

Ashton met her eyes again. "That's how _we_ see it. I know Mama and Papa feel the same way. The baby isn't a replacement, she could never be. All those things we did Emma…when we got ready for you. All the things we said…they are all yours. This is different. But if the baby's okay…if she's able to grow up with us…"

Emma saw the worry in his face. She pulled him close. "She'll be okay, Bubba. She's going to be fine. I-I promise. We'll all look out for her."

Ashton looked relieved. "She won't be the Savior, or anything like that," he said. "She'll just be her own little self."

"She'll be our little sister," said Emma, feeling protective. She felt powerful. She could do this for the family. Give them the security of knowing their growing family would stay together. She gave her brother a firm pat on the leg and pulled the car back onto the main road.

Ashton continued gazing at her.

Emma thought of their parents, realizing something...

"Ash?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

"I think it's about time we made a nursery, don't you?"

Emma watched as the anxiousness that had been there for months, literally melted off his face.

"I don't know if Mama and Papa are ready yet," he said nervously.

"We'll make them ready," Emma was eager to watch the same look of contentment rise on her parents' faces. How had she not seen the uneasiness on their faces, the reluctance to truly plan for this baby's arrival?

"Do you think we can get Gepetto to make her a crib really fast?" Ashton asked.

A smile quirked the corner of Emma's lips. "He's had one ready for the last month," she said.

Ashton looked at her incredulously. "You told him to make a crib?"

Emma had to look away from the adoration in his face. "I had an idea. Made a little sketch…It's no big deal really. I thought…I thought Mama and Papa would like it."

"Emma," he said softly.

She held up a hand, preventing him from saying anything else. "Let's stop by the toy store. I think we have some toys to buy."

Ashton reached back for his equipment bag and grabbed his wallet. "I want to buy her the first toy," he said. "Maybe I'll get her a stuffed dove."

"A dove?" asked Emma.

"Yeah, because a dove is a symbol for hope." Then he grinned secretively.

"What else?" Emma asked, preparing herself.

"Symmetry."

Emma Swan felt herself smile.


	8. The Language of Grandmothers

Author's Note: I got the idea of the first part after watching SnowFalls3's Emma whatthehelll Swan video. The rest of it…RIP Ruth, you were an amazing mother.

As always…Thanks for the reviews and follows.

**Ch. 8: The Language of Grandmothers**

"What the hell?" Ashton's voice was clearly frustrated.

Emma closed her eyes. "Ash, can you not say that? Mom and Dad don't like it."

"You say it all the time," Ash responded.

"I'm twenty-nine."

A sigh then… "fine. Sorry."

"What's wrong anyway?"

"This homework doesn't make any sense," Ashton grouched as he shoved his paper away from himself and dropped the pencil to the table.

"Lemme see," Emma came up behind him to grab the paper. Swiftly she read through the story problem. "You have to add, then subtract," she told him. "It's a two part problem."

Ashton rolled his eyes a little. "You're not supposed to _tell_ me what to do, you're supposed to help me figure it out on my own."

"Well, I saved you a step. Get your stuff done so we can meet Henry. He should be done with fencing practice in the next ten minutes," Emma said as she scanned the report quickly and made some notes on it.

Ashton sighed as he quickly skimmed the rest of the page. Three more problems. He finished in five minutes. "I'm done Emmy. Can we get ice cream after we pick up Henry?"

Emma used one hand in a "gimme" gesture. He handed her his math page. She glanced through it swiftly. "I think so. You can only get something small though. Mama was pissed when you guys were too full for dinner last week."

Ashton nodded eagerly as she handed back his paper and slid it into his backpack. "Sure."

As they went out the door, Ashton's book bag snagged on the handle. Without noticing, he continued walking. The ripping and thudding sounds alerted tcaused both of them to come to a dead stop.

"Son of a Bitch!" Ash yelled.

"Ashton!" Emma scolded. She felt her face pull into a grimace. Her parents…

_"Son-of-a-bitch," Emma muttered as she turned the coffeemaker over in her hands. How could she have broken it this time? Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother give her father a sharp nudge._

_"Emma…" her father began._

_Emma turned to look at them, eyebrow raised expectantly._

_Looking distinctly uncomfortable her father continued, "We…"_

_Suddenly Henry burst through the door. "Mom, Grams, Gramps!…you'll never guess what happened…"_

_The conversation was never finished, but Emma had a sneaking suspicion she knew what it was going to be about._

She turned to her brother. "You need to stop swearing, Bubba," she scolded.

He opened his mouth.

"And don't tell me I say it all the time," she interrupted him. "I know I do. But the fact that I'm twenty-nine is going to trump it every time, okay?" She bent down and started gathering his books and papers.

"You're supposed to be a good example for me and Henry," he shot back. "Mama said." He grabbed the pencils that were rolling around on the sidewalk and the torn book bag.

Emma blew a thin stream of air through pursed lips. Counted to ten. "I know that, Bubba. I'm trying. I just lived alone for a long time. I'm not use to living around little kids."

"Oh," Ashton seemed to deflate.

"What?" Emma asked, instantly wary.

Ashton frowned, "Nothing."

"Ash…" her voice was a warning. She couldn't gently poke and probe, like their mother. She wanted her answers right away.

"It doesn't sound like fun. You don't feel like you can be youself around us."

Emma closed her eyes. Why were the children in her life were so damnably perceptive? She decided to distract him. She jerked her head in the direction of the car and they began walking. "Mom and Dad don't really swear a lot, even around me…and I'm a grown-up."

Ash shook his head. "No way. Mama's a Queen and Grandmother would be mad at Papa if he did."

Emma tilted her head. She had been curious about her grandparents, but her parents had been strangely hesitant. "You…got to spend a lot of time with our grandma?"

Ashton nodded easily. "Yeah. She took care of me a lot when I was little. Mama and Papa were busy trying to fight Regina and King George. They didn't want me to get hurt, so I stayed with Grandmother a lot."

Emma opened the door of her bug and watched as he clambered inside. "What was she like?"

Ashton waited until she was seated and began driving to answer. "She was really nice. Papa loved her an awful lot. Mama too."

"Oh," Emma felt sadness tug at her heart.

Ash seemed to sense her grief. "You would have liked her a lot too Emma. She would have spoiled you. Especially since you have her name."

"What?" Emma asked, turning away from the road in surprise.

"Ummm. Your middle name. Like mine is Blythe? Yours is Ruth."

Emma gripped the steering wheel. "I didn't know I had a middle name." She felt betrayed.

Ash sank into the seat and shrugged his little shoulders. "Oh…" he was silent as they drove to pick up Henry and all the rest of the way home.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Emma didn't know whether it was progress or not but when she got home she confronted her mother immediately. "Why didn't you tell me that my middle name was Ruth?"

Snow paused, coffee cup halfway towards her mouth. "Uh…"

Ashton appeared from behind Emma. "Sorry Mama, I didn't know it was a secret," he sounded miserable.

Snow waved him over and cuddled him in her lap, but her eyes never left Emma's. "It wasn't a secret, baby." It was like she was speaking to both of them. "We just hadn't gotten around to talking about it." Then she kissed his head. "Go play with Henry. I want to speak to Emma."

Looking between them with a nervous expression, he slipped off her lap and went upstairs.

"Why didn't you get around to it?" Emma was hurt. "Didn't you think that was something I should know about myself? It's my _name_."

Snow remained seated, as unthreatening as possible. "I – Emma, you did have a name. When we – you and Mary Margaret - were looking through the boxes…when we found your identification. You had a last name. You had a middle name, Michelle."

Emma opened her mouth, shut it again.

Snow pushed of, before Emma could speak. "Your father and I – we didn't want to _take_ anything from you. You had a name. It's been with you all twenty-nine years. We were just thankful they kept 'Emma'."

Emma dropped into kitchen chair across from her mother. "Oh," her voice sounded small.

Snow reached over to grasp her hand. "We didn't intend to hurt you. We just didn't want you to feel torn, like you had to choose."

"And…" Emma cleared her voice. "And I'm named for my grandma."

Snow nodded, and Emma caught the sadness in her mother's voice. "Your father's mother," she clarified.

"Why? Why not your mother?"

Snow's eyes finally dropped to the table. "I want to tell you Emma. I _will_ tell you. I just – I need some time. And…I think your father should be there too."

Emma could tell from her mother's response that it wasn't simple avoidance that caused her mother's silence. It was grief. Emma felt her own throat tighten a little. "Okay."

Her mother's hand squeezed hers, then a forced cheerfulness appeared on her face as she let it go. "She was a lovely woman. Sweet. Loving." She paused in thought. "Formidable."

There was something in her mother's tome that piqued Emma's curiosity. "Formidable?" she asked.

"Well, you have to understand. I was an orphan. She was the only family David had left, and he was devoted to her. Meeting her was…intimidating."

"Was she mean to you or something?"

Snow's eyes opened in surprise. "Oh, no. Not at all. She made me feel welcome, cherished."

"So why was she so scary?"

"She was just…such a mother…"

Emma watched her mother flounder for a moment, then frown. "I guess I just don't know that much about mothers," she finally said.

Emma started to protest, but then thought about it. Snow's mother had died when she was ten. Then she had a homicidal stepmother to deal with…Maybe she did have issues with mothers. Of course, Emma did too so there was a certain equilibrium to their relationship.

She gave her mother a reassuring smile. "Bet it was easier when you _became_ a mother."

Snow returned the smile. "She was amazing. Everything would have been so much harder without her." Snow paused, gathered herself. "She helped us so much after Ash was born. We were travelling and fighting all the time. Red, Granny, and the dwarves were in the thick of battle with us. She was the one who cared for him and hid him from Regina and George."

"She sounds like a brave woman," Emma ventured.

Snow nodded. "More then that…she was a rock…a sounding board. We were both so young Emma. Not quite as young as you when you had Henry, but only a few years older. There was so much on our shoulders. Many times we relied on her advice. But there were other times we just needed….one time…" her mother looked like she didn't know whether to smile or frown. "It had been a bad day, a bad week really. We were arguing about the best way to take a village headed by King George's sympathizers. We were both determined our way was the best. The worst of the argument was over but we…well there's no other way to put it, we were sulking. Ashton was playing loudly and David snapped at him. Ruth noticed the tension of course, so she tried to smooth things out. David lashed out at her too. It was mild, especially compared to the standards here, but to Ruth…" Snow paused and shook her head ruefully. "She took David by the hand, like I would do with Ash sometimes when he had been naughty, and led him out the door. David told me later she scolded him. He was terribly embarrassed because he had behaved so poorly. I was sorry because I felt I had provoked him into a bad humor."

Emma's eyes hadn't left hers.

Snow's smile spread slowly across her face. "It actually was somewhat of a turning point for us. We realized we couldn't be expected to do everything right, or know everything. I mean, we were both young, David had been a prince for less then a year and I had spent the last three years of my life as a bandit. We needed viewpoints other than our own. We needed a formal council, not just get opinions from friends and comrades while we were on the run. That's when we formed our round table."

"Wait-," Emma interrupted. "You guys had an actual round table?"

"Yes, eventually…why?" her mother started in confusion. Then realization crossed her face. "Right. King Arthur. But yes, we had a round table. A council. It made a difference. I think that's when the tide began to turn in our favor."

Emma's face was thoughtful as she studied her hands. "You think Ruth did all that?"

"Oh, Emma. She did so much more than that. She didn't need a sword, or a bow. The gifts she gave to us were…are immeasurable." Snow's look was penetrating. "I so wish you could have met her."

Emma contemplated not just her mother's words, but the mood, the stories behind them. "Ruth," she said the name reflectively.

"Emma Ruth," said her mother distinctly, but with a hesitating tone.

Something clicked, deep down in Emma, dormant for twenty-nine years. "Emma Ruth," she agreed.

A/N: I don't know which author originally came up with "Ruth" for Emma's middle name, but thanks. It fits.


End file.
